


Break in the Line

by itsmoonpeaches



Series: Lost My Heart in Republic City [8]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang (Avatar)-centric, Blood and Violence, Established Relationship, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Kataang Week, Kataang Week 2020, Love, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, POV Aang (Avatar), Post-100 Year War (Avatar TV), Post-Avatar: The Last Airbender, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avatar: Legend of Korra, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25693108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmoonpeaches/pseuds/itsmoonpeaches
Summary: Prompt: Free Day-“What’s going on?” asked Katara from behind him. When he closed the door, he saw her standing next to the counter in the kitchen. Her nightgown was rumpled, her chestnut locks free from the usual half-up style.“We have to go to the station,” he said, making his way back to their room to find his robes. “Toph wants our help with a case.”He heard her following him, bare feet slapping on the wooden floorboards. “That doesn’t sound good,” she said. “If it’s that serious, they might need a healer.”Aang agreed without preamble, then said, “I hope they don’t, for their sakes.”-Or, after the events of a tragic case, Aang's nightmares about Azula's lightning reemerge. Katara is there to keep him steady.
Relationships: Aang & Katara (Avatar), Aang & Toph Beifong, Aang/Katara (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Katara
Series: Lost My Heart in Republic City [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851508
Comments: 22
Kudos: 93





	Break in the Line

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Day 8: Free Day. That means I came up with this myself, and it's completely unprompted. It figures I would end Kataang Week 2020 on an extremely heavy (and angsty) note, but this was a part of Katara and Aang's relationship I wanted to explore. 
> 
> For those of you who saw the tags, you've been warned.

He received the call in the middle of the night. A messenger from the police force came running to his and Katara’s apartments next to Yue Bay. It overlooked the island that he had started to build an Air Temple upon with the Air Acolytes’ help.

Normally, Aang was only involved in big issues. Ten years after the end of the war was not enough to warrant the end of all problems, however. As the Avatar, he was needed all over the world and could not also spread himself thin throughout Republic City. Nevertheless, when he heard that Toph needed his help, he knew it was significant.

He stood at the entrance to the apartment in his sleeping shirt and pants, rubbing a hand down his face. “Okay,” he said, voice rough and groggy, “We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

The officer nodded. She turned on her heel and retreated.

“What’s going on?” asked Katara from behind him. When he closed the door, he saw her standing next to the counter in the kitchen. Her nightgown was rumpled, her chestnut locks free from the usual half-up style.

“We have to go to the station,” he said, making his way back to their room to find his robes. “Toph wants our help with a case.”

He heard her following him, bare feet slapping on the wooden floorboards. “That doesn’t sound good,” she said. “If it’s that serious, they might need a healer.”

Aang agreed without preamble, then said, “I hope they don’t, for their sakes.”

The two of them left in minutes. Katara had tied back her hair, and both changed into more proper attire. When they propped open the door to exit, the night air outside was foreboding. The branches of the trees that lined the streets whistled in the howling winds. Their footsteps smacked on the cobbled roads— _click clack—_ and the echo of their breaths left clouds of frosty gasps in their wake. The winter chill seeped into Aang’s bones through his cloak, cold and icy.

The flickering lights of oil lamps casted shadows upon the streets, the constellations barely visible through the thick black velvet of the sky. All was quiet besides the sounds the two of them made.

The police station arose before them, one of the only buildings lit. A guard stood to bow and greet them, and they rushed inside to Toph’s office. No one stopped them when they opened her door without knocking.

“What’s going on, Toph?” Aang asked as soon as the door shut behind them.

Toph stood in her metallic police uniform behind an imposing desk, golden badge reflecting off her chest. Her arms were crossed as her blind glower met them just off-center. “We have a murder case, and it’s not good. We found a body,” she informed them. “Explain, Ryu,” she ordered to the stocky man standing to her left.

“There was a girl who was murdered just an hour before we got there. No one saw it coming,” the man on the force said with a respectful bow. He offered them a case file to which Aang accepted. “The reason why the chief called for you is because it was a lightning bender. There are so few of them, even fewer outside the Fire Nation, and you are the only one besides the Fire Lord himself and Prince Iroh who we can trust that can redirect lightning. Since neither of them are available…”

“I could fight whoever it is off,” supplied Toph, “but redirection causes a lot less damage. And well…a metalbending police force is a disadvantage here, as much as I hate it. And there’s another thing…” She paused, uncharacteristically hesitant.

Beside Aang, Katara furrowed her brow. “What is it?” 

Toph cleared her throat and loosened her arms so that they dangled to her sides. “She was already dead when we found her,” said Toph. “There was nothing we could do. The only thing my force can do now is track down the killer, but we think we have a few leads.”

“Like what?” asked Aang.

“It looks like this might be a one-time thing. A murder of passion so-to-speak. That’s what the detectives say, anyway.” 

Sensing that there was more to it, Aang prodded. “But…?”

She sighed in frustration. “The killer fights erratically. I couldn’t keep a pin on them…there was something off, something…well.” She took a deep breath and turned her attention to Katara. “Katara would know, wouldn’t you? They fought like Azula, how you and Zuko described she did anyway…during the comet.”

Now that was not good news.

“You don’t think…?” Katara started.

Toph cut her off with a frown. “I don’t think it’s Azula. But it is someone who fights like her, and that’s a problem. We need to capture this guy together.”

Suddenly, the door slammed open, startling Aang and Katara. A short man strolled in, a wild look in his eyes. His topknot was a mess, and he had patchy stubble that added to this unkempt countenance.

“Chief, we have an emergency!” he yelled, spittle flying everywhere.

“Spill it, Chen,” ordered Toph.

“The killer is on a rampage! On 9th and Kyoshi Avenue!”

That was all it took. Aang, Katara, and Toph sprinted out of the room in rapid succession. Aang billowed air into every step, following the man and his instructions. He burst out of the double doors that led to the station, the girls close behind. He could hear Katara meet him at this side and Toph suggest where they go next.

Collisions resounded in the near distance, booming, and reverberating through the streets like battle drums. People were screaming. Blue sizzled past buildings, glass shattered and scattered, the yells of the metalbending force could be heard shouting frantic orders.

“This way!” demanded Toph, and Aang followed panting heavily.

They rushed around corners, blasted past fallen men twitching in the dark. There was a pale hand facing toward the crescent moon, devoid of all life and color. A plush bear lay scorched somewhere away from it. Katara skidded to a halt, waterbending from her pouch and attempted to heal whoever was injured. Aang could see the tears pool in her eyes.

“Go,” she said, voice trembling, “I’ll do what I can here. I’ll meet up with you.”

They did not have time to argue. Aang airbended to cushion a woman who came almost crashing into him. They turned another corner, and he was met with the sight of a disheveled, depraved-looking man in the middle of a wide street.

His dark locks were completely loose, his golden eyes were brimming with wickedness. He laughed and laughed and _laughed,_ and there was nothing in his screeching words but malevolence.

“I killed her!” he chortled as men and women tried to subdue him. He shot more lightning at their feet and they jumped into the air to avoid conducting it. Some of them had released their armor. “I killed the stupid wench who betrayed me! She had _no right_ to be with him, that Earth Kingdom swine who took our father in the war! _NO RIGHT!”_

A woman launched at him, but he firebended her away until she was knocked out. Toph stepped forward, stomping on the earth to block him.

“And _you,”_ the crazed man continued, voice rising higher in pitch, _“All of you_ in this city are Earth Kingdom swine! Die!”

Aang pulled Toph out of the way just as a lightning strike broke through her earthen wall. He pointed two fingers at the zigzag of white light, directing the bolt through his arms and into his stomach, until it came out on the other end and shot into the sky.

“Stop this!” Aang shouted, making his way to the man. Everyone else backed up on Toph’s orders. “We can help you. You don’t need to do this.”

When the man faced him, a grin was plastered across his face. His teeth glinted in the moonlight, his eyes shining with misplaced mirth. “Ah, the _Avatar,”_ he mocked. The line that made the welt on the corner of this mouth sunk into his skin. “You’re here. You think you can save me like you saved the world?” He growled in a second. “You’ve done it. You’ve destroyed me and my revenge.”

Aang took a ready stance, knowing full well that there was no talking sense into the man if there was not fighting involved as well. He knew his kind, the kind that only spoke to reason if they were subdued. There was not much he liked about overt power, but he had it and Aang would use it if need be.

The man howled as he shot successive fire blasts at him. Aang deflected with ease, opening his arms with deft practice. He earthbended a circle of spikes around him in hopes of keeping the man in place, but they were broken with strong gusts of fire.

Soon, he shot lightning strike after lightning strike. It took Aang all his energy to make sure that none of it hit anyone else. He heard Katara yelling for him, and Toph telling her to wait.

The man rotated his arms, arcing electricity flowing through his body. Aang stood ready as he had been, palm facing outward, poised to redirect. Then, without warning, the man pointed his fingers toward his own heart and released.

As soon as the lightning finished its course, his body collapsed backwards. His clothes were torn open, charred, and ugly. There was a horrible burn that marred his fair skin, exploding from the center of his chest outward in a starburst of death and red. Spatters of blood covered most of his upper body. His sightless eyes stared into the night sky. The smell of charred flesh permeated the night from the shuttered shop windows to the sickle of the moon, sharp like a knife.

Aang, unable to do much else, fell onto his knees in defeat. The dead man was all he could see. 

-

Not being able to save someone was not something new to Aang. He had not been able to save his people, nor the soldiers that had fought in the war. There were countless deaths he could not prevent. Yet, this one distracted him. He knew in his heart that this was not his fault. He knew it.

He tried to emulate what Guru Pathik had told him: forgive and let go. He did, in a way, after the first few days.

What he did not anticipate were the nightmares.

Cold rippled across his skin, gooseflesh rose from his arms to his toes. He could see the glowing cave of the catacombs underneath Old Ba Sing Se, feel the ragged surroundings teeming with power.

He woke every night since he had confronted the murderer in a cold sweat. By the time it was the fourth day, he had only three hours of sleep on average per night. His head pounded; his hands would shake if he even thought of lightning. Katara started to notice how he had seemed to awaken earlier than normal every day to meditate.

There was the man’s gold eyes, staring at him with nothing in them. Devoid of anything, of a soul, of a life. He saw himself every night floating in a pillar of light, only to be brought down by the excruciating pain, and then nothing but black. Katara’s azure eyes were the first thing he saw in his dreams, crying over his body on the back of Appa as they departed Ba Sing Se.

When he meditated on the apartment porch, he felt like he was being shot through with lightning under the crystal catacombs of Old Ba Sing Se. Over and over again, he could feel Azula’s wrath. When he opened his eyes, the anxiety left him. He lived the rest of the day in the sunlight, basking in it.

But, as soon as the moon lit up the sky he could not sleep. 

He had not had dreams like these in years. He thought he had gotten over them.

In his dream on the seventh night, he was surrounded by the crystal catacombs of Ba Sing Se yet again. Aang was running, jumping from boulder to floor in a matter of seconds. He created a barrier of glowing crystals around him. He forced himself to let go of the love of his life, of Katara. He could see her face just beyond the army of Dai Li agents, relieved. That confidence was broken in seconds. He saw the devastation there, the tears, the silent cries for him to wake up, _wake up, please Aang—_

He woke up to the sound of his own rapid heartbeat thudding against the confines of his chest. He sat up; bare upper torso drenched in sweat. He placed his head in his hands, heaving. Everything about him shuddered, from his breathing to his fingertips. He could feel his throat burn, the ashen feeling of being in a coma for weeks, of the ache of his old wound.

He reached to the middle of his back, brushing against the scar there that broke the line of his arrow tattoos.

Cool fingers grasped at his and he startled, looking at the face of Katara beside him. Her hair framed her soft features.

“Aang?” she whispered. She inched upward until she sat too. “You’re awake again.”

He did not respond. All he could see was her desperation on that day when he had been shot from the sky.

Katara leaned in, tenderly gathering his hands that had returned to his face, and holding them close to hers. She kissed his palms, then every finger. She let them go and cupped his face, putting her lips to his forehead and his cheeks, pressing herself closer until they were melded together in a dance, two halves of the same whole.

She was gentle, kind. Everything about her was starlight and the calming creaks that streamed from mountain tops to rivers, to lakes. He melted into her body. Her warmth was a comfort, her familiarity a balm to the coursing agonizing memories that plagued him. 

She kissed him from his neck, down his spine, and she stopped just shy of his scar.

“Katara,” he murmured into her hair as he turned to her. He tugged at her tunic, hands asking for more. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can,” she said, lips ghosting upon his. “I’ll be with you. We’ll be together. Whatever it is, we’ll be together, and you won’t have to be alone anymore.”

“I’m scared,” he replied, tears prickling at his eyes. “I know it’s not my fault that I couldn’t save him, so why do I still feel this way?” His arms tightened around her. He told her everything, all of the nightmares he had been having, the resurgence of his fears from lightning, and the power he could possess.

It was not a new feeling, not a new obstacle he had to climb over. But it came anyway, and Katara understood.

“I’m afraid too,” she provided, peering into his gaze. “I’m afraid everyday that war will come back, and that what we’ve worked for will be for nothing, and that I’ll lose you.”

“Don’t be,” he said.

She shook her head. “I’ve already lost you once and look what it’s done to you. I don’t want that again. But I know the war will never leave us, Aang,” she replied with a sad tone. “As much as we want it not to be, it’s a part of us, a part of who we are. And even if you know that you couldn’t prevent this death, or the deaths of others, or that you are not to blame, there will always be something out there that neither of us can see coming.”

“The next time this happens, you should leave me, so you don’t have to see me like this. I can tell how much it hurts you.”

He said it because there would be a next time. There would always be a next time. It was his job, his duty. She was right, the war would never leave him.

“I don’t think you understand,” started Katara, “I…I couldn’t leave you.” She pushed her lips to his, opening hers just a little bit, inviting him in. When they separated to breathe, she added, “How could I leave you, when we’re in this together?”

Aang sobbed into her neck. “I love you,” he said between each gasp, “I love you.”

After, they were tangled in the sheets, chests heaving, tears forgotten. The rays of beaming sunlight only just began to break through the slats of the blinds. He looked over to her and found her beautiful. She looked to him, and he could see the admiration he felt he did not deserve.

He was not fixed, and neither was she. The sleepless nights would come and go, he knew. That had been true in some sense for the ten years since the end of the war. The fight would never disappear like they wanted, and the people affected by it would always be there, waiting for just the right moment.

He thought of the man he could not save, and the soldiers who would never return home after unsuccessful battles. Some of them lay rotting in their graves, some not so lucky. Nameless faces littered the potter’s fields in ash and stone. Remnants of ancient Air Temples remained empty until he could fill them with hope again.

“I love you,” Katara said to him just as the morning came.

But Aang could deal with hope and all the tragedy that came with it. She was there and she knew, and that was what mattered.

He got up that day, ready to see the world for what it was, and he was hopeful again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that was okay? I know in LOK, they go further into the concept of mental health, but I know that even though they didn't touch on it much, the characters from ATLA probably had similar problems. Being around trauma does that to people. 
> 
> Please drop a comment and/or some love below! Thank you also for reading all of my oneshots for Kataang Week 2020!


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